


i'll be your sky

by 0neType



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fellswap, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, On the surface, Papyrus Remembers Resets, Post-Pacifist Route, Sort Of, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 00:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13306485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0neType/pseuds/0neType
Summary: Being on the surface has it perks—there's sunlight, fresh air, tons of space and no ever-present, obliterating sense of doom.... most of the time anyways.





	i'll be your sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skelehawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skelehawk/gifts).



> here's some more fluffy fellswap! ;u;
> 
>  
> 
> ~~... this is like,,,... the most sfw thing i've ever posted here LMFAO~~

His brother always wanted to see the stars.

That’s Papyrus’s first thought as they stand at the edge of the cliff overlooking the world beyond the barrier. It’s sunset, night is approaching and, even now, there are shining sparks up in the sky—god, the _sky_ —that immediately catch his eye. He glances to the right out of the corner of his vision towards his brother and, sure enough, Sans stands transfixed. Sockets wide and unblinking as he drinks in the view in front of him.

It’s the most at peace he’s ever seen him.

“Come along, child.” Comes the deep, rumbling voice of the King—and that’s another revelation, isn’t it? That the man Papyrus had been speaking to for ages was none other than the King of all monsters; abdication be damned—as he brushes against Papyrus’s side while ushering Chara away from the crowded group of monsters.

He can see the Queen off at the far end of the group, standing next to Undyne. She’s staring back at the two of them, quiet and unmoving. There’s something almost wistful in her expression but she doesn’t make an attempt to join them. He’s heard more than enough about her from his brother to know that the Kingdom always comes first for her and, on a day like this, that’s not going to be an exception.

A loud laugh jolts him, and Papyrus has to refocus his attention back to where Alphys is standing with his brother. She’s smiling so hard that the scars along her face are all scrunched up, eyes closed and sharp-toothed grin wide. She’s slapping what looks like congratulatory pats against his brother’s back.

Papyrus has to hold back the flare of protective magic that threatens to rise as Sans shakes from the force of it.

_This is Alphys. She and Sans are close. She has absolutely no intent to harm him._

He already knows that of course, but it’s hard to shake the age-old wariness that the Underground has worn into his bones.

Sans is delicate.

He’s strong and fierce and loud and ruthless when he wants to be but…

One solid hit is all it would take to crumble his compact frame to dust.

So, Papyrus takes a step closer to his big brother, posture slumped casual and hands safely hidden in the pockets of his hoodie. At least shoved into his coat like this, he won’t be in danger of reacting with a hair-trigger response and can let himself be near. Just in case Sans needs him to step in.

Cautious, like everything in their life.

_Just in case._

“Ugh. Come, brother,” Sans says, turning away from Alphys as she continues to chuckle. There’s a faint blush on his face that offsets his scowl in an almost comedic way. Papyrus makes sure not to point it out lest it only irritate him further. “There’s no reason at all that I should have to stand here and take this.”

He follows wordlessly, only letting his curiosity rise to the surface once Alphys is out of earshot, distracted by a conversation with Undyne and the Queen, “… what did she say?”

At first it seems like his brother won’t answer. He’s stubborn like that. Always has been. It’s not like he’s ever kept anything important from Papyrus—they don’t keep secrets from each other, no sense in that when they’re all that they have—but Sans has waved off plenty of things that he finds hateful or embarrassing about himself when he gets into one of his moods. It seems like this might be one of those things, given his brother’s sudden tense posture and heated face.

But. Then again. This is a fresh start and a whole new world, so maybe change is to be expected.

“The stars,” Sans says, voice quieter than his brother ever is in anything but his most vulnerable moments, “She asked me if they were better than in my books…”

They’re quiet. The air around them crisp and comforting as it blankets their silence.

Papyrus whispers, “Are they?”

And for the first time in longer than he can remember, Sans smiles.

 

 

They don’t really have a place of their own on the surface. Not quite yet anyways.

However, Sans is highly ranked in the Guard and has had numerous personal audiences with the Queen herself, so they _do_ manage to cash in rewards for that, so to speak. They get an apartment all to themselves in the massive, dilapidated, old building that the monsters have been using in the abandoned human town closest to Mt. Ebott. Unlike the countless monsters streaming out from the Underground, they don’t have to share with anyone but each other.

Which counts for a hell of a lot actually, considering how crowding has become an issue virtually overnight. It’s been less than two weeks and already the Guard has managed to get nearly every monster evacuated from underground. Even the Floweys that were so determined to stick to their—heh—roots are out on the surface with the rest of them.

His brother has been busy throughout, of course. He’s Alphys’s right hand, and with her taking primary command of the Underground’s relocation efforts while the Queen and the newly reanointed King engage with the humans, it’s no wonder that he doesn’t have time to relax. Sans is tense and stiff and speaks with that authoritative bite to his tone even when he’s at home, so used to keeping up his Guardsman persona for hours at a time.

So, when the King texts him—all clumsy handed with numerous typos that he apologises and attempts to fix in post—and asks if he can watch Chara for the day, he accepts. His brother adores them, even if he tries to hide it. Sans could use a break. It doesn’t matter how anxious Chara makes Papyrus.

And it’s… not that he hates the kid or anything.

In fact, the two of them get along pretty damn well. They giggle at his jokes while his brother groans and slyly make ones of their own as follow-up. They follow him to his sentry shifts and keep him company in the long, eventless hours. They even do puzzles with him when the world seems like too much and he just wants a minute to shut down and focus on only one thing at a time.

Plus, how can he hate anyone that freed his entire race from an age-old curse?

It’s just that there’s… something about them that makes him uneasy. A stagnant feeling, creeping and oddly familiar, that he gets when they stand too close to his brother. Like a surging need to step between the two of them… to put some space in between his only family and the small, smiling child that has been nothing but patient and generous and kind.

And so, so, very determined.

He knows that it’s ridiculous to feel this way. Like he can taste dust in his mouth and bitter anger in his soul when he sees them tilt their head just the slightest to the side, smile on their face as they watch his brother regale them with stories of his conquests. They’ve never done anything at all to receive that sort of treatment. They’ve been kinder than most monsters in the Underground ever risked being with each other.

The out-of-place feeling always snaps and fades when they meet his gaze, clever eyes lit with a fierceness that belies the soft smile on their lips. It’s the expression of someone who bears the weight of the world on their shoulders and it pains Papyrus somewhere deep to see it on the face of a child. Besides, in the end it doesn’t matter what he thinks. Not when just seeing them makes Sans soften, the stiff line of his armour-clad shoulders relaxing and looking far more like the brother Papyrus remembers in the days before the guard.

“Chara!” Sans exclaims, eyelights going wide, easy and open the way they always do whenever the kid is around, “It is about time you dropped by, human. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten all about us in your rise to fame.”

They offer their usual smile, rosy cheeks flush and eyes bright. “I could never forget about you two.”

His brother’s chest puffs up at that, a sharp grin working its way onto his face as he comes to stand proudly at their side. They’re about Sans’ height, so they look him head-on with something secretive to their expression. “Especially when we have such important plans for today.”

At that, their eyes shift minutely towards Papyrus and he can’t help the way it stiffens his spine.

The words prickle uncomfortably through his bones, wariness settling in as he tries to figure out what they could possibly mean. There’s no important events today. No birthdays, no holidays, no occasion at all that would merit a plan past what they usually do when the human is over.

Most of the time, their activities with Chara are purely domestic. A sit-down dinner with Sans having done the cooking. Watching a movie while curled up together on the couch. Papyrus reading the other two a story before bed as they sink comfortably into the mattress. It’s big enough that all three of them could rest in it but Papyrus is often guilty of falling asleep right in the chair. It’s happened enough that his brother has laid out a sleeping bag for him on the floor during these impromptu sleepovers in the hopes that maybe he’ll at least slink onto the floor if climbing into the bed is too much effort.

Sans always grumbles about it in the mornings and Papyrus apologises, his brother waving him off eventually with a roll of his eyelights and a wave of his hand. Chara, however, always remains silent during those occasions. There’s always a glint in their eye as they watch the brothers work their way through their usual banter.

Papyrus wonders if it’s because they know he’s only pretending to fall asleep.

“Well then, let’s just get right to it, shall we?” Papyrus jolts out of his reverie at the sound of Sans’ voice, bewildered further by the knowing look he exchanges with Chara. It seems that whatever this change in their usual routine is, Papyrus is the only one oblivious to it.

Before he can question it, however, Sans grabs him by his right arm and Chara comes up at his left, hooking their thin, frail arm with his own. They’re both half his size but more than capable of holding their ground, so it doesn’t take them much strength to pull Papyrus towards the door. He barely has a moment to yelp before they’re guiding him outside and through the apartment halls. A dozen monsters give them curious glances as they make their way to the elevator.

As the doors close, his brother hits the button for Parking instead of Ground Floor and Papyrus watches on in growing confusion. Chara giggles softly by his side, a hand coming up to cover their mouth. They step out of the elevator quickly and his two makeshift guides usher him briskly through the lot.

In retrospect, Papyrus feels like he should’ve guessed right then and there what was in store.

“Behold, brother!” There’s a rare, genuine giddiness in Sans’ voice as he gestures out towards the vehicle parked in front of them.

It’s a sports car.

Bright red.

Expensive and shiny and new.

Papyrus doesn’t have to even consider for a second before he knows that it’s his. Of course, it is. He’s been daydreaming about a car like this since forever, mentioning it in passing to Sans on those increasingly scarce days where they had the opportunity to sit down and unwind with each other.

“M’lord,” Papyrus says, so blown back by this turn of events that the term slips from between his teeth after so long reconditioning himself to go without it, “This is… you—you didn’t have to.”

His brother’s smile slips, his expression dimming. His scarred socket narrows as he frowns, voice stern. “Of course, I didn’t. But I wanted to.”

Papyrus stays silent. As does Chara, looking carefully between the two of them.

He’s almost expecting a burst of anger from his brother. That was Sans’ standard response to most grievances at one point in their lives. It happened whenever his brother got upset with Papyrus’s inability to stay focused on simple tasks. Whenever Sans got frustrated with the way he never seemed to do enough for himself…

… whenever Sans was worried that the only reason Papyrus got up at all was because he had promised to serve the Queen, his people and his brother as best he could.

But things are different now.

No more hiding behind cracked masks.

Sans stares at him, expression disarmingly soft on a face as scarred up as his. “You deserve this, Papyrus.”

Papyrus shakes. It’s a simple enough statement, but it still leaves him choked and breathless. He’s known, of course, that Sans has always believed him to be capable of much more than the menial tasks he restricts himself to, but his brother’s not much for words and it’s never been a discussion they’ve ever really had. Papyrus sticks to doing the absolute minimum, Sans watches on with distaste and Papyrus tries not to feel like a failure. That’s just the way things have always been.

So, to hear him say that Papyrus _deserves_ this—deserves anything at all considering how useless he’s been…

He can’t find his voice. Doesn’t even know what he’s say in response to that if he did.

“I think Papyrus should take us for a spin.” Chara pipes up, before the silence following Sans’ words can get too awkward, and his brother turns towards them with a last lingering look in his direction.

“Excellent thought, human,” he says, sharp teeth pulling into another smile, “Hand him the keys and we will make our way out.”

Chara tilts their head at him, “I thought you had the keys?”

Sans looks just as confused as them, “No, I do not. Didn’t you say that you…?”

The human just smiles at him, raising their hands palm up to show that they’re empty. They watch with Papyrus as Sans pats down his pockets, a slow flush that hints at embarrassment making its way onto his face. Averting their gazes, his brother mumbles out a ‘be right back’ before bounding back towards the elevator, his boots clacking loudly against the concrete floor as he leaves.

That leaves Papyrus alone with Chara, the two of them staring down the path Sans left from even after he’s long gone. When he finally looks back towards them, he finds that they’re already watching him, that same slight smile on their face. At the sight of their expression, his soul kicks up in a frantic pace and sweat starts to trickle down the back of his spine. His hoodie suddenly far too warm and he tugs nervously at the zipper at its front.

There’s no reason for him to be so nervous. He knows that. _He knows._ But he just can’t seem to help it, an unconscious urge to be far away from the human pushing at him to leave. “Sans… Sans would probably find the keys faster if I helped him—”

Chara lets the keys dangle out in front of them, hooked around their pointer finger and swinging back and forth in a pendulum.

They continue to smile.

“That’s—” Papyrus hates this. He hates that crawling, uneasy feeling sinking in through his bones. He hates the way his soul pounds like he’s about to be attacked. He hates the anxious stutter that trips up his speech when he’s alone with them. He _hates_ this. “W-why would you tell Sans—?”

The human takes a step towards him and his breath chokes as his magic flares up, raring to burst. It takes everything he has not to take a reflexive step back and _he doesn’t know why_. His hair trigger battle sense wants him to send out wave after wave of bone attacks, to call out his blasters, to teleport right out of here if nothing else, but his confusion keeps him rooted in place. Still as stone.

“I’m sorry, Papyrus,” comes their soft voice as they rush towards him.

Their body impacts his with a solid thud and enough force that he has to scramble to keep his footing. He doesn’t realise he’s trembling till he feels their arms around him, stroking soothingly at his back. Chara’s hugging him tight, their face buried in the front of his sweater.

His magic strains against his grip on it, prepared to strike. But they’re not a danger to him. They never have been, so why…?

He takes a shuddering breath and holds it, forcing himself calm. He lets a shaky laugh escape him as he urges his arms to cooperate and fold around the human embracing him, “What, uh… what for, kid?”

It takes them a moment to answer, shaking their head into his chest and gripping tighter where their hands are fisted in the back of his jacket. “I won’t do it again. I promise.”

They sound sincere. From what he can tell anyways.

Despite himself, there’s a blanket of relief that wraps around him thanks their unexpected—and unnecessary? —apology. It’s like a part of him that had been wound up in anxiousness this whole time is suddenly sighing with relief. It’s not perfect, of course. He’s still feeling wary and uneasy. But.

There’s something about the genuine intent in their words that soothes his soul anyways.

Besides, he’s not sure what it is, but there’s always been a part of him that was willing to believe the best in anyone. He’s not about to reject them. Especially when he can feel them start to shake in his hold. So, he readjusts in order to get down on his knees and be on level with them before enveloping Chara in a proper hug.

“Okay,” he says, simple and quiet.

Chara backs away from him, rubbing at their eyes with the sleeve of their striped shirt—different from the ones they’d worn underground, this one bearing a delta ruin vividly across its front—and giving him a watery grin. “I have an idea.”

They hold out the keys towards him. Papyrus blinks at them, glancing up at Chara who nods in encouragement. He reaches down and wraps his phalanges carefully closed around the offering.

He listens.

By the time Sans comes back down mumbling about having misplaced the keys, Papyrus and the human are already sitting in the car, destination in mind. Sans gives a shout of outrage over their ‘pranks and japeries’ to which Papyrus winks and Chara gives a quiet laugh. Beyond that, his brother isn’t _actually_ upset though, and it’s with a huff about people not valuing the time of someone as Great and Formidable as he is, he climbs into the car.

He settles in the passenger seat next to Papyrus while Chara sits in the back and then they’re off.

 

 

It takes only about ten minutes of driving before his brother starts to get bored. Papyrus has the top up, despite wanting to feel the wind against his bones and rushing through the fluff of his hood. It’s not time for that yet. There’s protocol to this—a proper build-up of anticipation.

Even if it makes his brother shift restlessly in his seat.

Thankfully, by the time Sans asks ‘where are we going?’ with any real annoyance in his voice, they’re already at the location Chara had suggested. Papyrus parks the car easily, looking back at the human and even cracking a smile at the double thumbs up they give him from behind.

Sans frowns. “Why did you stop?”

By all accounts, this really _isn’t_ the sort of place to stop.

They’re not in a parking lot or event center or anything of the sort. All around them is a big, empty field, flat as far at the eye can see. There’s no proper road here either, just a dirt path, unmaintained and barely worn in. There are no houses nearby and no artificial lights polluting the area.

Papyrus turns to Sans and gives him a smile, his gold fang catching moonlight filtered in thorough the windshield. “We’re here.”

“What—?”

Papyrus brings the top down.

He can’t help but concede that the human really chose the perfect place. The view here is breathtaking.

It’s high up and serene, plus dark enough that the stars immediately stand out over top of them. They glitter like the glowing stones that littered the ‘sky’ underground did, but with a brightness unmatched by anything they’d grown used to over the years. There’s so many of them too, twinkling like sequins and gold thread on a cape made of ink.

He sneaks a look at his brother.

Sans is slack-jawed, sockets wide as he stares at the expanse of sparkling jewels speckled in the darkness in front of them. His arms tremble as his gloved hands come up to the dashboard and he pushes himself up to stand in his seat, leaning closer as if to get a better look. Behind him, Chara stands as well, sharing a secret look with Papyrus as the smaller skeleton continues to drink in the view.

It’s not that Sans hasn’t seen the stars since they made their way onto the surface. It’s been almost half a month—there’s no way to miss how the surface changes back and forth between night and day, a palette of shifting colours as time progresses. His brother has been busy though. Sans has been so caught up in work and complicated assignments that, more often than not, he comes home so exhausted that he barely undresses before collapsing into bed.

His brother has seen the stars, yes, but not in the way someone who’s dreamed about them for a lifetime should.

“This—Papyrus, I don’t—”

Papyrus grins, his soul warming at the awestruck expression on his brother’s face. He lets the hint of something teasing slip into his tone, but his words are no less sincere for it. “You deserve this, Sans.”

His brother gives a startled bark of a laugh at having his words quoted back at him. His sockets scrunch up with mirth and his eyelights continue to glow with that simple, easy joy that’s so hard to get out of him nowadays. “Idiot.”

Papyrus grins wider.

“Hurry up, you two!” Chara’s voice sounds distant and Papyrus turns his head to see that they’re already out of the car. They have a small backpack in hand and proceed to pull a blanket out of it and lay it down onto the dewy grass. His brother gives a shout of assent and places both his hands onto the top of the passenger door, shifting his weight and jumping out the top of it without actually opening it. With a laugh, Papyrus follows after him far more demurely.

They settle down together on the blanket, three souls thrumming with content as they stare up at the night sky. Chara had apparently had the foresight to not only pack the blanket itself, but a small selection of snacks, and they pass out sandwiches to the brothers before immediately digging into their own, cracking upon a can of pop and downing it as they go. Papyrus munches on his own sandwich slowly, turning the human down when they offer him a bag of chips to go with it, but Sans doesn’t touch any of his food.

His brother is far too busy taking in the sights around him.

It brings a smile to Papyrus’s face to see Sans like that. His brother’s posture is relaxed, body untense and the expression on his face almost dreamlike. Like this, his whole form looks softer, as if molded from clay instead of cast in iron and steel. His eyelights are wide and warm as they continue to gaze unerringly into the distance, his battle-worn scarf shifting in the light wind that swishes around them.

It’s picturesque.

Papyrus can’t say much for their future. His brother works tirelessly and things have been hectic—will likely _be_ hectic for a long time to come. It’s the surface; it’s an unknown. There are countless new dangers out here that he’ll have to face down with Sans and they’ll have no way of knowing how to prepare for them.

That’s why having now, having this moment… it’s something precious.

Something to be cherished.

“They’re asleep,” Sans whispers, and Papyrus shifts to see that the human has curled up on the blanket, head resting on Sans’ lap. He slowly moves to take off his jacket and then leans over to drape it on the human. He places it gently, careful not to wake them.

As he moves back, Sans adjusts it on them till they’re mostly covered. Chara makes a soft hum of content and burrows further into it till only their face past their nose is visible. With one hand brushing softly in the human child’s hair, Sans leans against him, head resting on his shoulder. His free hand finds Papyrus’s and settles on top of it, holding it tight.

“Love you, Papy,” his brother sighs, words so light they could be carried away by the breeze.

Papyrus adjusts so that their hands are palm to palm, phalanges entwined. He rubs a thumb soothingly over the scarred bones of his brother’s hand. He leans his own head down against Sans’, soul warm and full and happy.

Hand in hand, they watch the stars.


End file.
